


the taelpar drag

by choiminhovevo



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 14:37:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17102447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/choiminhovevo/pseuds/choiminhovevo
Summary: Noctis is dragged by daemons and Ignis goes after him





	the taelpar drag

**Author's Note:**

  * For [clevagirl (lescafenix)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lescafenix/gifts).



A hunt in the nighttime; they’re used to those, though Ignis would think--to himself, aloud to anyone within earshot--that they’ve been accepting far too many for his tastes. But the promise of Gil was too lucrative to pass up, and Noctis’ confidence with every daemon he slays grows so much Ignis is too proud of him to strike down that bravado with a curt reprimand. He’d done that far too often.

They’re on the bridge spanning the maw of the Taelpar Crag, the day long transformed into night. Ignis suggested they make a quick trip to Coernix for some more curatives; there’s only a few Remedies and not enough Gold Needles for what the bill insists is a minimum of six Piscodaemon or Necromancers. Potions were good and plenty, but what good was a Radiant Lance if its wielder was literal stone?

“Nah, we’re golden, Iggy,” Prompto insured them, bless his character. “We cleared out Costlemark, we can handle a few wraiths.”

“Do we need reminder of the time we navigated Crestholm?” Ignis reminded, but the question fell on deaf ears. The night came fast and with it a slew of Ice Bombs, and the boys found them in a flurry of battles until their marks arrived. Between the cacophony of gunshots and magick shards bursting in Ignis’ eardrums, they could barely make out the sounds of the Piscodaemon phasing through the air. Within seconds, an arc of light blasted the air and froze Gladiolus on the spot. Noctis warped to his side, aiming a Gold Needle like a dart while slashing at a daemon near the Shield’s form. The Piscodaemon shied away from the blade, like a weightless form in the air. Where Noctis went, Ignis was sure to follow, daggers flying in the wind. With Gladiolus moving again, the Shield’s greatsword made a wide berth with every powerful swing; he felled several Necromancers in the process. With an “I owe ya”, Gladiolus went to Prompto’s side, assured that his prince was still under Ignis’ vigilant care.

Noctis was a whirlwind of fury, throwing his blade to warp with reckless abandon. With each Piscodaemon falling, a Necromancer would rise in its stead. Was there an end to the daemons spawning this night? They had to have killed more than six, if Ignis was to keep count (and he always does).

When eventually a Necromancer withered away into the night, leaving wisps of lavender smoke, Noctis shifts back down to the ground, stasis making him sluggish. His sword disappears into the armiger in blue light, hands on his thighs to catch his breath.

“You exhausted yourself, Noct.” Ignis remarked, his lance following suit.

“Astute observation, Specs,” Noctis panted. “Good of you to keep up with me.”

“Is that a compliment from His Highness? I’m flattered.” Ignis smiled at his friend’s grin.

“That’s gotta be the last of them,” Noctis said. “I counted maybe eleven? Six my ass. Is it  _ unkingly _ to ask for a reward bonus?” Ignis shook his head with a snort.

“Thank you for having my back.” Ignis is taken aback by Noctis’ warm hand on his shoulder.

“I’ll always have your back.” He murmured, noticing how Noctis’ blue eyes soften and that soft familiar smile makes his features gentle. If his face betrayed how his heart flipped at the sight, Noctis makes no mention of it.

Prompto called over from the Regalia, suggesting they all stay in Old Lestallum for a decent bath for once. They should leave before anymore daemons decide to reappear. Noctis made a move to step towards the car when the ground melted from underneath, the sound of metal creaking and falling away as a colossal red fist reaches out from the other side.

Noctis’ scream of surprise is drowned by the squelching pull as one Red Giant surfaced from behind, the crimson fist closed down on Noctis’ leg. Ignis reached for his polearm, crying Noctis’ name as he scrambled to fend off the giant. Amongst the clamor Gladiolus bellowed in outrage as a pair of Iron Giants follow, raising their scimitars at the Shield. Trying not to let horror overcome him, Ignis anticipated that the Red Giant holding onto Noctis would surface, and Ignis would focus all his might on taking that one down. Said fist did reveal the squashed metal face of a Red Giant, hatred celestial in its beady eyes as it looked at the prize in its fist. Noctis was desperate to free him from the daemon, but his stasis was still active and no matter how much he tried to pry away, the Red Giant’s grasp was too much for him. Prompto’s bullets bounced ineffectively off the Giant’s breastplate, and Ignis has tangled with these giants enough to know his daggers were useless against their might. Still didn’t stop him from trying.

The Giants were disinterested in Noctis’ retinue; rather they found the prince a better find. When one Iron Giant fell to Gladiolus’ blade, they made their descent into the abyss; Noctis still in their grasp.

“Ignis!” Noctis cried. “Help!” The prince’s cries were drowned in the sounds of growls, metal, and fire scorching the earth.

Something primal unlocked inside Ignis. The whole world melted away and only one thing remained in his mind:  _ where Noct goes _ ,  _ I go. _ Amidst Gladiolus’ and Prompto’s cries, Ignis lept and went after the prince, abandoning all thought of whether he could follow after to wherever they were taking his friend.

Ignis is swallowed by the miasma.

Where Noctis goes, Ignis is sure to follow.

 

✹

 

This is suicide, some small part of Ignis’ lizard brain protested. Noctis is in freefall, fighting off the Red Giants as they continued to drag him down. A myriad of emotions spread across his face when he saw Ignis was after him:  _ Holy shit, you came after me!  _ And  _ Holy shit now we’re  _ both _ in here and we’re both stuck oh gods we’re going to die _ and  _ oh gods we’re dying aren’t we _ ?

“Noct!” Ignis had never heard his voice shout so loud. “I’m coming for you!”

“Ignis help!” Noctis summoned his blade and stabbed at the Red Giant clutching onto him, but his blade clanged noisily to no avail. Around them was a world straight out their nightmares; a plethora of daemons phasing out of purple miasma, spidery Arachne creating bolts of lightning streaking across the black clouds. How far the nightmarish hellscape extended Ignis didn’t care; his focus only on Noctis. He closed in on the prince, grabbing onto his free hand. The Red Giants roared in anger, brandishing swords in fierce arcs, causing gales of wind to blow Ignis back, tearing at his skin and clothes. Ignis grunted, anger fresh and hot on his face. He summoned spear after spear to throw at the daemons, each one leaving no more than a scratch. Further they are pulled into darkness, and the fear on Noctis’ face became more pronounced.

It was at that moment that Ignis realized, despite all his knowledge and forward thinking, he never learned nor anticipated falling into daemonic miasma, succumbing to the underworld, if this is what this place was. All his learning, his skills, the font of wisdom, it was all for Noctis.

And it wasn’t enough.

Ignis had not felt fear in a while, thought an advisor had no time to feel that emotion. It was still unfamiliar territory that led to desperation, something he thought he was above that. But when the two took helm of his motor skills, he drew a terse breath.

With a cry, primal and guttural, Ignis emptied all the elemancy spells from the armiger, dozens of flasks of Fira, Blizzaga, and Quintcast Thundaga. They spilled on the daemons, shattering into thousands of shocks of elemental damage. Horrid shrieks from deep within the monsters split their eardrums; Noctis was not spared from the magickal onslaught. Yet it was enough for the Red Giant to recoil in pain as the Blizzaga spells froze the fiery darkness of the daemon, and Noctis struggled once more and he squeezed out of his boot. Ignis lunged forward, using the magickal blasts to propel him to his prince. His arms enveloped Noctis, and he squeezed him too tight, but if Noctis complained, he didn’t show it; squeezing him back with all his might as all the flasks broke more and erupted plumes of frost, storm, and flame.

The pain was stark and harsh, worse than anything Ignis had endured. He wanted to look Noctis in the eye one last time, but shame as he failed his sovereign, his friends, his Noctis, was too much to bear. If his last moments alive were to be in the arms of his prince, bearing all the pain the Astrals would allow, then he supposed it would be enough for him.

He hoped Noctis didn’t feel a thing.

 

✹

  
  


With a gasp, hoarse and sudden, Ignis awoke. Frost tinged his fingertips, his pants were burnt, his shirt in tatters, glasses broken; his gloves burnt beyond recognition. Pain erupted throughout his body in fresh waves and he grunted, curling up to shield him from agony he couldn’t escape. It was then he realized he was alive, still. Yes, there’s that. By the grace of the Astrals he was spared, but-

“Noct!” Pain forgotten, Ignis scrambled to his knees. “Are you here, Noct?” Where was here? The earth was littered with tattered and frayed bits of unrecognizable cloth, sticks, and metal. He hoped they somehow made it back to the overworld.

“Noct!” He called again, almost a wail. “Are you here?” He crawled through the jagged bits of debris; it was too dark to recognize where he was.

A cough not to far from him sounded under the rubble. Ignis sought out the coughing and searched the ashen rubble. Noctis was under some burnt branches, and he pushed them off. With a shuddering gasp Noctis blinked the soot out of his eyes and almost screamed when Ignis clamped hands on his legs for purchase.

“Ignis!” Noctis exclaimed. “You’re here! I’m fine, no need to…” his voice trailed off as Ignis checked for injuries. Significant bruising along the legs, especially the left one where the Red Giant grabbed him, and his hair was burnt from the Thundaga spell, but nothing significant.

“I’m fine, Specs. You… you went after me.” Noctis let Ignis take his hands.

_ Where you go, I follow _ , Ignis wanted to say, but the words were a lump in his throat. A shuttered breath, wet and thick, escaped his mouth. He brought Noctis’ hands to his lips, kissed the rough knuckles.

Noctis was thrown off balance by this display of vulnerability. When he looked into Ignis’ eyes, they were wide and moist. Were those tears? Crying and Ignis don’t add up in his brain.

“Ignis, it’s okay, you don’t have to-” His words died once more when Ignis displayed another non-Ignis trait by burying his face into the crook of Noctis’ shoulder, vibrating with nervous energy. Dampness on his should confirmed that his advisor was crying. “A-are you hurt?”

“I’m just so relieved you’re okay. Noct.” Ignis allowed himself to whisper. “I thought… I thought I failed you.”

“ _ Failed _ ? We escaped the clutches of the daemons from the underworld because you reacted. I couldn’t thank you enough.”

“My knowledge was useless. I’m afraid I do not know where we are.”

Noctis looked up, and beyond the shadowy darkness that rose for miles, he could see a stripe of dusky blue.

“Maybe we’re in the bottom of the Taelpar?” Noctis suggested after a while. “I think I can see the sky? Look.” Ignis scrubs the tears from his eyes and squints up, but it was too dark to differentiate.

“I’ll take your word for it. We must head back to the others.” Ignis stood, offering his hand to hoist Noctis up. Noctis grabbed him tight, letting himself be pulled up. Standing, he found himself in Ignis’ embrace again. He felt his advisor’s lips on his forehead, and Noctis sighed in relief at the gesture. An action so small and so pure eased his troubled spirit, he didn’t want to leave Ignis’ arms. He looked up and gazed into Ignis’ eyes. They’re no longer wet, but there was something faraway about his look, like he struggled to remain focused. There would be a time where they were safe at some haven or motel, sharing a bed, where they could process what they endured. Maybe they’ll discuss it, or bury it deep within them and keep it from their friends. But all Noctis wanted to process was how he never felt so safe and comfortable in Ignis’ arms, and that his kisses were better than an Elixir (Ignis would dispute this, citing sources that the magick of the Old Kings far surpass a mere pressing of the lips).

Noctis leaned up, and before Ignis could utter a word he felt the chapped lips of his prince on his own. He tingled at the touch, glad he didn’t recoil from the touch and wished he could deepen it.

When Noctis pulled away, he said “we could continue this later. Right now let’s get out of here while we still can.”

It took Ignis a moment to speak. “You think you could link-strike us all the way up?” He asked.

“Wouldn’t kill us to try.” Noctis took his hand, smiling that soft smile that made Ignis’ heart flip and this time he let his face betray his true feelings. Noctis smiled wider.

Sinking their lances into the rock each time Noctis phased the two up out of the gorge, the dusky dark blue slowly melted to dawn, and tender light shone brilliantly, glinting off rock layers. The warmth was inviting, and Ignis allowed himself to lean into it.

**Author's Note:**

> for clevagirl@tumblr and ao3. sorry my secret santa was so early??? (I'm off to sea and will there be wifi? probably not so I rather it be very early than you wait until new years. that wouldn't be fair.
> 
> can I be honest? all the things you wanted, I genuinely tried to write and yet... holy shit it's hard. I brainstormed for weeks and nothing original came to mind. this is poor substitute. maybe I'll write something better but knowing my talents? doubtful. but I hope you like this to a degree and please have a Merry Christmas


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